Making up for my Mistakes
by CCCCinnamonLips
Summary: Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and he knows he has to tell Claire. Sawyer is plauged by memories of Cassidy and Clementine.
1. Aaron

**Title:** Making up for my Mistakes  
**Pairing:** ConMama  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.  
**Summary: **Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own LOST, if I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable. I also don't own the lyrics to "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone."  
**Status:** WIP  
**Note:** This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will, but Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.

**Chapter 1 : Aaron**

It was his fifth day out of the hatch. He didn't like that place, it made him feel confined. Besides, how could he like any place that made him spend that much time with Dr. Jack? He didn't care if there was plumbing and plates, it just wasn't worth it. If he really tried, he could avoid that place all together. Freckles could bring him his meds, and his shoulder didn't hurt that bad anyway.

He was enjoying the calm breeze and the warm sun when Mamacita's kid started crying not too far from where Sawyer was lounging. He wondered what she had named the kid, but that thought was soon replaced. He was now wondering why no one was shutting the thing up. Claire was young, but she wasn't stupid enough to leave the baby alone.

Sawyer looked around, and the kid was definitely alone. In fact, the whole beach seemed deserted. Everyone that was out of their tent was a good fifty yards away. Not close enough to hear the baby, and too far for Sawyer to go get them. After about five minutes of telling himself he really shouldn't, and Baby Huey's screaming, Sawyer got up and went over to the hand-made crib.

He looked around the young woman's tent, found a magazine, and started reading out loud. The kid must have had something seriously wrong with him, because it didn't shut him up like usual. Sawyer didn't know what to do at this point. He had never really been the paternal type, so he'd obviously never soothed a crying baby. He would have just walked away, but that screaming was going to give him a headache, and he couldn't just leave the kid all alone. Sawyer wasn't sure if babies could tell that they were alone, but he knew what that felt like, and he didn't want anyone else to have to feel it.

Sawyer leaned down and scooped the baby out of the crib, being careful not to strain his shoulder. Once he had the baby cradled safely in his strong arms, he started gently rocking him.

"This ain't so hard," Sawyer mused partly to himself and partly to the baby. The kid had quieted down noticeably, but was still fussing enough for Sawyer to think twice about leaving him. He checked to make sure he didn't just need a diaper change, or anything else Sawyer could easily provide. The thing seemed fine, but it just kept crying. Sawyer made sure there was no one on the beach near them, and no one in the immediately surrounding forest. Once he was sure he was alone, he did something he never wanted anyone else to know that he ever did, and started singing to the baby.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.  
It's not warm when she's away.  
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,  
And she's always gone too long  
Anytime she goes away.  
Wonder this time when she's gone"

Some movement in the trees made him stop short. Who ever was coming sure wanted the people around to know it, and was making way more noise then any normal person walking through the jungle. The racket quickly ended the moment of silence from the baby that Sawyer's singing had created. About 20 seconds later, Charlie came crashing out of the brush.

Sawyer let out a sigh of relief. Now that the one-hit-wonder was here, he could leave the kid and get back to his chair in the sun.

"Thank God you're here, compadre, you can take Tattoo." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he saw the limey runt's eyes. He'd seen eyes like that before. Bloodshot, dilated, nervous. That boy was high. Sawyer quickly changed his mind about leaving the kid with him. Even a con man knew you couldn't leave a druggie in charge of an infant.

"Son of a bitch," Sawyer muttered under his breath as he started walking away with the baby.

"Hey! What do you think you're doin'?" Charlie shouted after him.

"I'm takin' this kid over there, where he's no where near you."

"Claire left Aaron for me to look after. You can't just take him."

"Yea, fine job you done lookin' after him, Chuckie. Where were you when he started cryin', huh? Tellin' Mamacita you'll watch the kid then waitin' 'till he's asleep to go get high don't exactly make you nanny of the year." Sawyer turned and kept walking away. So she named the kid Aaron. Not a bad name, he thought to himself. Thinking of the name made him think of Claire. How was he going to tell her that Charlie was back on drugs? Everyone knew that he had been using before, but they also thought he was clean now. Knowing he was back on the stuff would hurt her. Wait, why did Sawyer care if it hurt her? He barely knew her. He didn't care about her. Then again, he was walking towards his tent with her baby. It sure looked like he cared, even to him.

"Charlie? What's going on?" a sweet Australian voice called down the beach. Sawyer turned back around. Claire was walking towards them, confused and concerned.

"Charlie, why does Sawyer have Aaron? What's going on?" The Brit seemed at a loss for words, and for once in his life, so did Sawyer.

"Charlie?" Charlie started sputtering, like he was trying to come up with a lie, and falling short. Claire started to advance on him.

"I..." Sawyer started. Claire rounded on him, forgetting Charlie.

"I was reading to him and, well, because he was crying and..." Sawyer didn't know what he found so frightening about the petite blonde, but at that moment, she was scaring the hell out of him.

"And... It wasn't working, so, umm, Charlie gave the kid to me, and he was reading to it to see if that would work, and umm, the magazine ended and so... I was going... to... my tent to... find something else to read." Sawyer took too long telling the story, and he knew that Claire knew that he was lying.

"You know what, I'm too tired to try and figure out what's really happening here, just give me the baby and go home, Sawyer." Sawyer handed Aaron to Claire and left the scene, still feeling very awkward about the whole thing. He could here Charlie and Claire talking in hushed tones as he walked, and wondered what they were talking about. Claire didn't seem to notice Charlie's altered state.

Sawyer knew he would have to tell her what he saw. He just didn't know how. She seemed happy with Charlie. If she was even really 'with' him. He didn't want to ruin that. Which brought him back around to why? Why didn't he want Claire to hurt? Why did it matter to him if he was the source of that hurt? He'd hurt other people plenty of times and it never bothered him. Now he couldn't possibly think of telling that girl something that might cause her some distress. Why did he care?


	2. Sayid

**Title:** Making up for my Mistakes  
**Pairing:** ConMama  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.  
**Summary: **Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own LOST, if I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable. I also don't own the lyrics to "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone."  
**Status:** WIP  
**Note:** This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will, but Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.

**Chapter 2: Sayid**

A few hours after the lonely baby incident, Sawyer still couldn't get Claire off his mind. He didn't know her very well, and he didn't know anything about her situation with Charlie. It seemed to him like the guy was more interested in her than she was in him. It looked more like a pairing of convenience than anything else. He liked her, he was good with the baby, it just made sense. No one really disliked the runt, but no one seemed particularly fond of him either. Claire, and maybe Sayid and Hurley were the only people who harbored anything more than indifference towards the ex-rocker.

Sayid had distanced himself considerably from the group, though. Shannon's death had taken its toll on him. He sat alone now, down the beach, staring out into the sea. No one seemed willing to talk to the grieving Iraqi, so it was understandable that he was surprised when Sawyer came over and sat down next to him. Neither of the men said anything, and instead continued thinking silently of their personal demons.

The silence was anything but comfortable, though, and Sayid soon ended it.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me, Sawyer?"

Sawyer looked down at his hands, like a child caught in a lie. There was something he wanted to ask him, he just didn't know how. But if anyone knew about Charlie's drug use, it would probably be Sayid.

"You and Charlie are friends, right?" Sawyer asked tentatively.

"I suppose so."

"Has he been acting strange lately?" Sawyer didn't know of any better way to address the habits of the other man, so he fell back on a question that felt like it came out of a pamphlet.

"Why are you asking me about Charlie? It doesn't seem to me that you two have ever been close." Sayid was uncomfortable talking about him, and was eager to get to the point of the conversation. He had an idea what that might be, but was wary of the topic.

"We're not, I just…" Sawyer was unsure how to continue. "I jus think…" Sawyer was thankful for Sayid's continued silence, allowing him to choose his words carefully. "I think he might be using again."

"What makes you think so?" Sayid wanted all the facts before he judged the situation, but knowing what he did, it was difficult not to jump to conclusions.

"Earlier today, he was, sorta, weird, and…" Sawyer trailed off. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell anyone about the situation with Aaron. Without that fact, Charlie's addiction didn't seem as harmful, but when Aaron was brought into the situation, it was impossible to ignore.

"And?" Sayid questioned.

"And… he left Aaron alone. I don't know for how long, or if it was the first time, but…" Sawyer didn't have to finish the sentence.

Sayid sighed. It was obvious then that Charlie had been impaired in his judgement. "Then I think your conjectures are likely correct."

Sawyer looked over at the Iraqi, and was surprised to see a look of guilt on his face. This was no one's fault but Charlie's, why would Sayid feel responsible? He said nothing, and Sayid started talking again.

"It's my fault that he's doing this. I showed him the heroin from the plane. I could have prevented this." Now it was Sayid's turn to look away from the other man.

"No, you couldn't have. He would've found 'em on his own." Sawyer didn't know what else to say to him. He knew the whole thing wasn't Sayid's fault, but he didn't know how to prove that. So he lied.

Sayid scoffed and looked back over at Sawyer. He was partly confused, and partly surprised.

"I would not have expected to be comforted by you, of all people. You are one of the last people on this island that I would expect to have this conversation with. Why are you so concerned with Charlie?"

Sayid had asked the question that Sawyer had asked himself countless times since he had walked away from him and Claire earlier that day. Sawyer still didn't have an answer.

"I don't know. I just… He can't just get away with it."

Sayid stared at Sawyer for a bit, then looked back out at the water. Sawyer followed suit, and the two men's thoughts returned to the problems, now weighing heavier on their shoulders.


	3. Locke

Title: Making up for my Mistakes  
**Pairing:** ConMama  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.  
**Summary: **Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own LOST, if I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable.  
**Status:** WIP  
**Note:** This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will. But Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.  
(Chapter 3/?)

Chapter 3: Locke 

Sawyer walked down the beach deep in thought. He had talked a little more with Sayid about Charlie's introduction to the Nigerian plane. He had plenty of opportunities to get the drugs and there hadn't really been any way of stopping him.

Sawyer had spent the previous night sleeping in short spurts, and never very well. He was plagued with thoughts of Claire and Aaron when he was awake, and dreams of their worst possible fates when he was asleep. He finally decided sleeping was a lost cause, and left his tent at dawn.

"You're up early, James."

Sawyer had been so deep in his concerns that he hadn't noticed when he entered camp. He turned towards the voice. Locke must have been returning from the hatch as he was heading out of the jungle towards his shelter. Sightings of the man were rare now that the hatch had been opened.

"Something on your mind?" Locke set his pack down outside the opening of his shack. It was difficult not to notice how distracted and worried Sawyer looked.

"Ain't you got a button to push?" Sawyer had enough on his mind without someone else getting involved.

Locke looked down, and looked back up, smiling in a way that only he could, part amusement, part adoration. "I only ask because you seem distressed. If you don't want to talk, that's fine."

Sawyer started walking away again.

"But if you do want to talk, you know where to find me."

Sawyer looked back over his shoulder, and slowly came to a stop. Maybe it would be good to get some advice from someone else involved in the situation. Before the Doomsday button came into the picture, Locke had looked like a forerunner for Claire's affections. He was also very familiar with Charlie and his habits.

"You know what, I think I'm gonna have to take you up on that." Sawyer walked back over to Locke as the other man gestured him into his shelter. Sawyer nodded his thanks as he entered the makeshift tent. The two sat on the floor across from each other. Locke watched Sawyer as he struggled to find a way to initiate the conversation.

"I..." Sawyer looked up at Locke. An unwonted surge of guilt hit him as he saw the look of patient wisdom in his eyes. He must have given Charlie that look before. If Sawyer told him what was going on, that look would become anger, maybe even hatred towards the man that had once seemed his friend. But he had been given one hell of a second chance with Claire, and already he was wasting it.

"I think Charlie's back on drugs."

Just as Sawyer had guessed, Locke's expression immediately darkened. Sawyer told Locke everything that had happened since the previous morning. Locke listened quietly, staring into space, a look of deep concentration on his face. When Sawyer was finished, Locke stayed silent for a moment, thinking deeply.

"Well…" Locke started, "It looks like there's only one thing to do here." Sawyer sighed and looked down. He had known what he had to do since he started walking away from Claire's tent hours ago. He had just been afraid to admit it to himself.

"I know," he muttered to his lap.

"Claire has to know." Locke was staring into space again, his chin on his hand, his elbow on his knee.

"I just… I just don't wanna hurt her." Sawyer decided to tell Locke what had really been bothering him about the situation. He was fully committed to the conversation at this point, and it would be cathartic to get it off his chest. The fact of the matter was that Claire had been at the front of his mind the past 24 hours, not Charlie. This secret escaping would surely hurt Charlie and his reputation, but that didn't bother Sawyer. The thought of that woman alone and hurt, was what had kept him silent this long. He barely knew her, but he knew that she was sweet and caring. More than that he knew that every time he looked at her holding Aaron, it killed him. Every time he saw them, he thought of all the times Cassidy had held Clementine like that, and he hadn't been there. He had to do what was right this time.

Almost as though he was reading his mind, Locke said in a low voice "Sometimes what is right, doesn't make everything better immediately. Things are sometimes going to get worse before they get better." Locke had an aged wisdom about him that Sawyer was thankful for at that moment.

"I could tell her if you want. I'm sure you would like to end your involvement in this soon." Locke started to stand as he spoke, and it appeared he had already taken on the burden. Sawyer sighed and stood with him.

"No, I have to do this."

Locke smiled and put his hand on Sawyer's shoulder. "It's the right thing, James."

Sawyer sighed again and said, "I know." The men ducked out of the tent, and nodded to each other as they turned to go their separate ways.

Sawyer began walking back to his tent, thinking of how he would tell Claire. There would be no easy way to do it. He would just have to come right out and say it.

_What if she cries?_ He thought, _I'm not gonna stick around if she cries._

He decided to tell her and leave, no fuss, no tears, just get it done.

He was almost at his tent when he heard an angry voice behind him.

"Hey! I need to have a little chat with you." Charlie was walking towards him with a fevered step. Sawyer ignored him and kept walking.

"Hey!" Charlie had caught up with him. "Don't walk away from me!" When Sawyer kept doing exactly that, Charlie shoved him in the back, even though Sawyer was the bigger man, and obviously more capable in a fight. Sawyer stopped and slowly turned towards Charlie. He didn't want to fight with him, he was going to do him enough damage soon, but he couldn't just walk away when he was challenged. He was hoping the look on his face would get Charlie to leave him alone, but he stood his ground.

"If you tell Claire anything that happened yesterday-"

"Listen, Tattoo," Sawyer cut him off, "I'll tell Missy Claire anything I want to tell her, and no one-hit-wonder is gonna-"

Charlie punched him with a weak force, and only surprised the Southerner. Charlie stood with both hands up, as if he were preparing to box. Sawyer still didn't want to fight him, and Sawyer was turning around to go back to his tent when Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him back around to face him. Before he could stop him self, Sawyer's fist slammed into the side of Charlie's face.


	4. Charlie

**Title**: Making up for my Mistakes  
**Pairing:** ConMama  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.  
**Summary: **Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own LOST, if I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable.  
**Status:** WIP  
**Note:** This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will. But Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.  
(Chapter 4/?)

**Chapter 4: Charlie**

"Charlie!"

"Sawyer!"

Claire and Kate came quickly down the beach towards the two men.

Sawyer saw Claire and immediately turned away from the pair. She was holding Aaron, and she looked confused and angry. He couldn't possibly tell her what he needed to. Judging by the way she was concerned for Charlie, she wouldn't accept what he had to say to her. She had gone over to him and was inspecting his face the best she could with a squirming toddler in her arms.

"Sawyer, what's going on?" Kate had approached Sawyer as Claire had approached Charlie, but instead of comforting and caring, she was accusing and annoyed.

"Nothin'," Sawyer said in a gruff whisper as he made eye contact with Charlie over her shoulder.

"No, this isn't nothing." Claire's voice was louder than normal, and everyone's eyes went to the young mother as she seemed to swell to match her volume. "Something is going on here and I want to know." Her voice cracked noticeably on the last word, and her face rippled with emotion, but only briefly.

She hadn't taken her eyes off of Sawyer. It was clear that she wanted her answer from him.

"Claire…" Sawyer took a small step towards the blonde and away from Kate. Everyone was startled by his use of her real name, but even more so by the personal tone he took it with.

The two stared each other in the face, and the rest of the world seemed to slowly fade out, as though someone had put it on mute.

"Claire, you don't…" Sawyer felt a gut-wrenching surge of guilt when a single tear slowly rolled down her cheek.

"Please." Claire was on the brink of breaking down, and could barely get the simple word past her lips.

Sawyer looked in her eyes for a minute, and everything he'd heard the past few hours replayed in his mind. He thought about Sayid's guilt, Locke's anger and his own varied emotions. He thought about the harmless woman standing in front of him and the innocent child on her hip.

"I can't tell you, I'm sorry." Sawyer's voice was just loud enough for her to hear him, a low and private murmur. He turned away from her, his eyes toward the ground.

The world came slowly sliding back into focus as Kate and Charlie stirred back into the scene. Charlie was relieved at Sawyer's silence, and Kate stood back, confused.

"You're a coward."

Sawyer looked back up as Claire raised her voice beyond normal speaking level.

"I don't know what you're afraid of. I don't even really know what I'm asking you." Claire had lost her hold on her emotions, the tears rolling freely down her cheeks to fall from her chin. She stopped for a second to catch her breath.

"But I'm asking you to please just tell me." Her blue eyes met his again, and the clarity in them, the obvious hurt, broke something in Sawyer. He could stop this right now, keep it from spiraling out of hand. He could do this one thing and be, just this once, the good guy.

"Alright," he breathed out slowly and took a step towards Claire. She held eye contact and her ground.

"I…" Sawyer began, but didn't know how to continue. How could he tell her that the life she was building was balanced on a lie? That someone she trusted this much had betrayed her again?

"I… I don't really know how to say this, but, uh, those… those Virgin Mary statues that Charlie's been carrying around?"

He was poised to continue, but Charlie was poised to attack. He came up closer to Claire and started protesting.

"He's lying. That's all he ever does anyway. Don't listen to him. I don't even know what he's talking about." But Claire either wasn't listening or just didn't hear him. She kept looking at Sawyer, and knew he wasn't going to lie to her. She didn't know how she knew, but something in his eyes said he was done lying.

"Claire, they ain't just statues." Sawyer went on, too far in now to take it back. "They're hollow, and somebody filled 'em with heroin. I think… I think he's using again."

Claire's eyes darkened, her lip quivered, and her stance deflated. She turned to Charlie, and asked, "Is he right?"

Charlie paused for a second, and looked to Sawyer before he answered, "Of course not, I wouldn't do something like, like that, not something that could hurt you and Aaron." Claire had seen his moment of hesitation, and the panic in his face as he talked to her. It was an evident lie. She shrank back further, and brought the baby in tight to her chest. The tears fell faster from her wide eyes.

"You're lying." Her voice was barely audible, and the color was rising in her face. She started backing away from Charlie, and repeated herself, but she was shouting now. Charlie started following Claire, protesting his innocence, but Kate stepped between them, keeping him back as Claire started back towards her tent.

Sawyer felt frozen to the spot. He said nothing as he watched his words tear apart another happy family.


	5. Claire

Title: Making up for my Mistakes  
**Pairing:** ConMama  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.  
**Summary: **Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own LOST, if I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable.  
**Status:** WIP  
**Note:** This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will. But Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.  
**Another Note:** So sorry I've been lazy with updating this. Things got really busy for me right after I posted chapter 4 and I sort of lost my muse, but I should be updating a little more frequently now.

(Chapter 5/?)

Chapter 5: Claire

Sawyer lay on the airline seat he had been using as a bed and stared at the tarp above him. Charlie had left the beach and no one had heard from him in two days. Jack was busy preparing a search party to find him. Hurley, Kate and Sayid had been the first in line to join him. Claire and Sawyer seemed the only two people in the camp unperturbed by his disappearance. Claire was spending a lot of time with Kate and Sun, but wasn't talking about Charlie. She wasn't really talking at all, no matter how anyone tried to get her to. Since Charlie had left, she had barely said five words to anyone around, and seemed content with that. Sawyer had simply tried to keep his distance from everyone, like he usually did.

Today all he wanted was to spend a few hours alone without being asked about the whole thing, or whispered about behind his back. The ordeal was hot island gossip, and his involvement was no small part of the story. Hurley in particular wanted to know everything that had happened, and relayed any small detail he managed to get to the entire island population. Sawyer had made note to remember for future use that if Hurley knew, everyone would know within the hour.

Sawyer sat up and picked a trashy romance novel from the sand. He heard footsteps behind him, and assuming it was Hurley again, turned to face them.

"Listen, Jabba, I ain't got anything to tell you, so why don't you just…"

Sawyer lost his words when he saw not Hurley in front of him, but Claire. She was alone and looked her true height. There was no fire in her eyes inflating her past her 5'4" like he had seen a few days ago. The two hadn't spoken since Charlie had left the beach. She looked ready to turn and run from him now.

"Sorry," Sawyer muttered, "thought you were someone else." He closed his book and set it beside him in the sand. He looked back up at her, his usual cold detachment in his eyes, "So, what can I do you for?"

"Why?" Claire let the simple question hang in the air without continuance or explanation.

"Excuse me?" Sawyer began to sound irritated, unhappy that his time had been interrupted.

"Why did you decide to tell me? You could have kept it to yourself; you could have asked someone else to tell me. Why did you tell me?" Claire's voice was just above a whisper.

Sawyer stared down at a patch of sand instead of looking her in the eye. He shoved his hand in his pocket and fingered the dog-eared letter he carried with him for comfort.

"I … I know you talked to John," Claire tried to fill the tense silence growing between the two as she wrung her hands and kept her gaze trained on his face.

Sawyer looked up abruptly. The look on his face was cold and hard enough to cause Claire to move back.

"You know what Mamacita, I got a right to some privacy and I don't really need my motives questioned, so why don't you just get the hell out of my tent?" Sawyer's voice rose quickly to a point just below shouting. Claire shrunk back from him.

She stood for a moment, tears forming in her eyes. She searched his cold visage for any hint of softening. When one didn't come, she turned from him and almost ran back to camp.

Sawyer watched her retreat and allowed himself to drop his shield of cold indifference when he was sure she wouldn't return.

Her face when he'd gotten angry had taken him back to places he didn't want to visit. She was hurt and he knew that he was the reason. He'd seen too many young, vulnerable women give him that look. His most vivid memory of torment he'd inflicted was not the most recent. Over two years before the crash, he had hurt Cassidy more deeply than he'd hurt anyone. All the rest he left in debt. He left Cassidy with a baby, and made damn sure she knew he didn't care. But of course he did care. He hadn't lived a day since when he hadn't wondered what he was missing. First steps, first words. He always wondered what sort of damage he'd been doing to his daughter, just by not being there. And if he'd be doing more damage if he was in her life.

Cassidy had given him the same look of hurt when he walked away from her in the prison. Claire's eyes had dragged him back down to the rut he'd dug himself when he left his daughter's world.

Sawyer stood and closed his tent the best he could. He sat back on his makeshift bed and placed his head in his hands. He made no sound as a single teardrop made it's way between two of his fingers.


	6. Sawyer

**Title:** Making up for my Mistakes  
**Pairing:** ConMama  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warnings:** Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.  
**Summary: **Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own LOST. If I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable.  
**Status:** Complete  
**Note:** This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will, but Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.  
**Another note:** Well, this is the end. It's still not perfect, but I think this chapter is the most well writen. Maybe not the most in character, but, I'll let you guys be the judges of how well it came out.

**Chapter 6 : Sawyer**

For two days he stayed only in his tent or in the community kitchen. He talked to no one more than was necessary. Kate stopped trying after a few failed attempts at finding out what was wrong with him. He could have been seen looking towards Claire's tent or in the direction she ran from him, but only if someone was watching very carefully.

She sat there then, reading a thick novel on astronomy. She'd have to read this chapter again. She was finding it impossible to recall even the previous paragraph. Right now, however, it didn't matter to her. Claire just needed to look busy so no one would ask her about Charlie, or worse Sawyer. So she kept her face in her book and hoped the people around her would leave her to herself.

Before she'd been reading very long, her hopes were dashed as a long shadow fell into her field of vision.

"I'm sorry, I … I can't really talk, umm… Aaron's been fussy and…" The excuses fell flat as she looked up and met eyes with her visitor.

"I think we might need to talk, eh Mamacita?" Sawyer's voice was low and he shuffled one of his feet back and forth in the sand like a guilty child.

"Yea, umm, come inside," she stood quickly and held back the flap to the tent Charlie built her. Sawyer hesitated and looked back to his own tent. He considered turning and running. Even he wouldn't have been able to say why he was there, and the safety of his tent would be preferable to the conversation he could see in his near future. He ducked under the low entryway anyway and sat himself on her cot. She followed him in and sat as far away as she could while still sitting next to him.

They each studied their hands as though they contained the secrets of eternal life. After a minute or two, they both looked up and tried to start something. They immediately looked back down, more embarrassed than they'd been before they'd spoken.

Sawyer spoke softly, still addressing his lap, "I got a daughter."

Claire turned her head towards him, shocked at his revelation, but more at her surprise. It was painfully clear at that moment how little she knew about the man next to her, but right now seemed an odd moment to tell her this.

"Umm, why…" She was cut off before she reached full volume.

"I don't see her. I've never seen her. I'm not even sure how old she'd be, I've only just seen her picture." He plowed through his sentences, determined for this to take no longer than it had to. "Her mama put me in jail. I conned her. I left before I knew. She thought all I wanted was her money and she had me arrested."

Claire watched the side of his face, losing all thought of interrupting. It occurred to her that she was the only one who'd heard any of this.

"I left her some money, but she won't know who left it. She won't ever know me, but I think that's better. I'm no good. Nothing I do turns out good. I don't deserve a chance with her." For the first time, he stopped. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers slowly through his hair. His hands fell back to his lap, and his eyes came to focus just short of the crib in front of him and the sleeping child inside it.

Claire waited for him to continue. For a few minutes it seemed he wouldn't, that he'd already said too much, and couldn't say anymore.

"That's why."

If anyone outside the tent had been any louder, if the waves had been crashing any closer, if the wind had been any stronger, she wouldn't have heard him. She held back the urge to ask more of him and let him go on himself.

"I know I'm no good, and bad things always happen around me, and I thought, this time, maybe… I could… be better, but," he paused and sighed deeply, "I just made things worse. I told you because I wanted to think that I was a good person and that someday I might deserve to know her, but I don't think that'll ever happen." There was an ending note in his last word. They sat in silence. Claire had nothing to say yet, and Sawyer wasn't ready to speak again.

"No." Claire breathed out the word as she looked back to her hands. "No, you didn't make things worse. It wasn't your fault, what happened." She turned towards him and waited until he looked up at her before she continued. "I would have found out sooner or later, and I'm glad I did. It really is better this way." Her words seemed to have no effect on him, and his eyes remained as sad as she'd ever seen them. She slipped her hand slowly into one of his still in his lap. He let her tangle her fingers between his and squeeze his hand. He looked back down at their hands intertwined in his lap.

"You deserve better than you think you do, Sawyer." A tear rolled slowly down one of her cheeks, but her voice never faltered. "I don't know really who you were before, but the man you're becoming here is a good person. There are a lot of things not good about the way this worked out, but there's one very good thing, too. I want my baby to be around someone who knows when something needs to change, and now he can be." They looked up at the same time. Claire's tears were falling faster and Sawyer's eyes were misting quickly. "Sawyer, you did good here, even if it doesn't look like it," she went on almost whispering, "and I hope you know that I think you deserve quite a lot."

The two started at each other, still holding hands. They didn't more as a tear fell silently from Sawyer's eye. Claire said nothing as she squeezed his rough hand again and then slid her small fingers out from his and stood in front of him. She put her hand on his shoulder and said again, "thank you."

Sawyer's head was filled with feelings at her words. He was amazed she didn't hate him. He was relieved she saw any good in the situation, where he saw none. He was angry with himself still for what he'd put her through. More than anything else, he began to feel forgiven. He felt pardoned. All his sins seemed to melt away in the light of her shy blue eyes, despite their tears. He stood.

"Thank you," he breathed. Her hand slipped from his shoulder as he walked out of her tent, looking up at the sky and smelling the sea, as he'd never done before. When he got back to his tent, he pulled a worn piece of paper and beaten-up pen from a pile near his bed. In a slow, shaky hand he began a letter that he would always carry next to the other.

"Dear Clementine…"

The End.


End file.
